


Canis Interruptus

by AmazonX



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama, Fiction, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-29
Updated: 2002-10-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazonX/pseuds/AmazonX
Summary: Waking up is hard to do!





	Canis Interruptus

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Canis Interruptus

### Canis Interruptus

#### by Amazon X

Title: Canis Interruptus 

Author: Amazon X 

E-Mail: 

Website: http://yankeestarbuck.tripod.com 

Category: Slash, D/Sk, PWP 

Rating: NC-17 (what else would it be?) 

Summary: Waking up is hard to do! 

Archive: Just tell me where, I'm real generous. 

Disclaimers: Don't own 'em, just love 'em, and if I could make money, do you think I'd be posting it here? 

Notes: This is the beginning of Season 9, and that's where it takes a sharp left turn at Albuquerque. Oh, and after watching some S3 episodes, Kim Cooke, as we all thought she was, was an ugly blonde chick. The happy redhead we know and love outside the Big Guy's office is actually Arlene. So, thus I named her. And damnit, don't nobody go changing your stories. We all know who we're talking about! 

Author's Notes: Sarah, I'm fuckin' broke. You know that. But I know you like my writing. I hope you like this for a birthday gift better than like, earrings or some such shit. I mean, I could get some used underdraws from a certain baldhead, but um...yuk? So, this is all you get. And my love. And my respect. And probably a phonecall soon, I suppose. OK, likedededed it? Good! Thank you of Bestest Beta Erynn, too! 

* * *

John woke up with a thick, burly arm thrown across his shoulder. He didn't dare move. What the hell happened last night?

It had all started out innocently enough, but didn't they always. Reyes and he had just finished a case file and hand carried their report to Deputy Director Kersh, as per his instructions. Sitting under his scrutiny was almost more than Doggett could take. The man droned on inanely for what seemed like hours, but was in reality only twenty minutes. He handed the file back to Doggett and said, "If you want me to deal with this...report, I suggest you rewrite it in a manner befitting an agent of your caliber, Agent Doggett. That will be all, agents."

Kersh abruptly stood and held his hand out to the door, a clear indication for the agents to see themselves out. Marie, Kersh's assistant glared at them as they walked by. The glare of her icy blue eyes pointedly gave Doggett chills. They left the office suite and got in the elevator to descend one floor to the suite of offices where they knew they could find respite.

Arlene smiled as she looked up at Reyes and Doggett and stood politely. "He's on the phone, agents, but as soon as he's free, I'll let him know you're here. He's got a meeting in fifteen minutes, so you haven't much time. I'm sorry for that. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?"

Doggett smiled back at the eager assistant. Skinner had a gem in this little lady. The huge rock she wore on her left hand indicated someone else also had the gem and gave her one to prove it. Both Doggett and Reyes declined the offer and sat on the leather couch to wait for their boss. He didn't keep them long, and Doggett followed his partner into the room and sat in the all-too familiar leather chairs before the big man. The hair on the back of Doggett's neck stood up as he looked at Skinner.

On that day, Walter Skinner had not worn his glasses to work. He'd been away for a week and his usually clean-shaven face sported a neat goatee. His usually golden skin was tanned deeply, the color of coffee with cream. His tie was a little looser than normal and instead of the crisp, bright white shirt, he sported a deep sapphire blue, the silk tie matching. Both agents noticed how the man wasn't wearing a watch but a loose gold bracelet that hung on his wrist, over his cuff as he lounged back in his chair, arm tucked behind his head.

"So, John, Monica, what can I do for you?" Skinner asked, leaning back in his chair. Doggett looked beside the desk and saw Skinner's feet, shoes untied, matching socks to his shirt and tie. Something had happened on his week away.

"Sir, you look quite relaxed," Reyes commented.

"Thank you. I think a week in Aruba is what everyone needs. I should have stayed for two. Next time."

Doggett shook his head. This was his boss, the same man who was in the office more than he was anywhere else in the world, complaining about not vacationing longer. Something wasn't right.

"Sir," Doggett began, "what prompted the vacation? I mean, you love your work."

"It's because I love my work that I needed the vacation. I was literally ready to quit because I was so uptight. But a week of sun, sand, sleeping late, and dancing until dawn does a body good. And the soul."

"Dancing?" Reyes asked. "Sir, I didn't know you were the dancing type."

"Catch me at the next Christmas party and I'll take you for a spin around the floor."

The smile on Skinner's face was so genuine it was scary. The two agents explained their problem with the report. Skinner, not even reading it, with a big flourish of his hand, signed it and asked them to leave it with Arlene -- she would handle it. They walked out of his office, closing the door behind them, and stopped before the assistant's desk. Reyes crossed her arms over her chest and said, "OK, spill it. What happened while he was away?"

Arlene smiled widely. "He just came in like that. His tie was in his briefcase and he chatted with me through the door while he was tying it. His shoes aren't even tied. I guess he had a really good time."

"He said he was dancing. Do you know if he's seeing someone?"

"He never gets any personal calls through me. But he did tell me he danced, and had a lovely time. He looks like he's even gained a few pounds. And the dark circles under his eyes are gone. And..."

"And what?" Doggett pressed.

"He asked me to make reservations for him next month, same resort."

Reyes smiled. "I'm glad he's finally relaxing. All that jaw-clenching worries me."

Doggett followed his partner out of the office and down to their "hole". It wasn't until two days later that Doggett was again reminded of his boss' new attitude. He walked into the office to speak with him about a 302 to be signed. Arlene was pulling her coat on to leave for the day. Doggett looked at the closed door and asked, "Is he on the phone?"

"He's gone for the day. Left about half an hour ago. Said he'd see me tomorrow. You can leave that and I'll have him sign it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is too late. You think he's home?"

Arlene shrugged her shoulders. She left him standing there. Doggett pulled his cell phone out and dialed Skinner's number. It went directly to voicemail. Either he was on it, or it was turned off. Doggett shook his head. This was getting stranger by the day.

Friday capped off a crappy week for the agent; his 302 ended up as an investigation that led him in a circle to a completely normal, scientific explanation for his case. The cadaver was just plain old stolen. No alien afterlife abduction, no weird cult theft, nothing like that at all. The thief was stealing corpses to sell to a lab. It wasn't even federal jurisdiction. The local police handled everything and Doggett felt very foolish, having wasted five days on this case. He walked dejectedly back into his office and slumped in his chair. Reyes looked at him and said, "John, why don't we go get something to eat and a drink. We can talk about it more."

"No, Monica, thanks. I just wanna go home and forget about this damn case. You go on, have a good time."

She nodded gently and left him sitting there, dejectedly. Doggett stared into space, mentally berating himself for screwing up and missed the sound of the door opening again. Skinner stood there, wearing a light blue polo shirt, open at the collar with stone-colored chinos. He lounged in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, starting at his agent.

"John, I'm sorry about the case," Skinner said, softly.

Doggett looked up and sat bolt upright. His face flamed in embarrassment at being caught off-guard, and at being in the dark all week about Skinner's transformation. He looked directly at the AD and said, "What the hell is with you? You've got facial hair, a tan, new clothes..."

"Now, wait a minute. I always had these clothes. I just decided it was about time to wear them. And it was about time to be real and be me. My vacation did wonders for me. You should think about it, John. You look like you're about to explode. Let me take you out for dinner and drinks. You need to relax."

"Sir, I think..."

"That's an order, Agent Doggett." The force had come back to Skinner's voice. Doggett smiled and followed the man from the basement office. He was being ordered to relax and enjoy his boss' company. Maybe a year ago this would have seemed strange to him, even raised red flags. But after a year on the X Files, he'd learned to take the strange and unusual as normal, and the normal as suspect. They both got into Skinner's car and drove out to Arlington, past Crystal City, to a large restaurant/bar/dance club. Doggett stopped a few steps from the car and watched Skinner's retreating back. He knew about this place, had seen it before, heard about it. Going into the establishment was a whole other kettle of fish.

Skinner stopped when he realized that he was alone. He turned back to the other man who was hanging back. He walked back and stopped before Doggett. "John, aren't you coming?"

"In there? Um...do you know what that place is?" Doggett couldn't help the shaking of his voice.

"Brentali's? Yes, it's a restaurant I like to visit. Is that a problem for you?" Skinner seemed so matter of fact, Doggett was actually surprised for once.

"Sir, it's a...uhm...a gay club. You, of all people, eat here? Are you...I mean..."

"John, look, I asked you to eat with me because I'm tired of eating alone. I like the steak here. And if you and I are in Brentali's together, do you think people will automatically think we're gay? And does it matter if they do?"

"What if someone sees us..."

Skinner smiled widely. He chuckled a bit, then he began to full out belly laugh. Doggett watched the man carefully, waiting for the joke. After a moment or two Skinner calmed down and looked back at the agent. "John, if there are an FBI agents in there who recognize us, they'll be more worried about me seeing them, than you're worried about them seeing you. I doubt they'll even notice you. Come on, let's get some dinner."

Skinner strode confidently toward the concrete stairs that led up to the doors, his gold pinky ring clanging on the chrome banister. Doggett followed him and watched the man's body move before him. Skinner walked with confidence and it seemed he wasn't even aware of his grace and power. All the men in the club turned to stare at them as they walked in. The maitre d' walked over, well, floated over, and put his arms out to hug Skinner. Quickly, they were ushered to a nice table, out of the way, low-lit with very comfortable chairs. Some of the tables had booth couches and some had stool-like chairs. They were sitting in tall, wingback chairs.

Drinks were ordered and consumed while the two men perused the menu to see what they would order. Salads were brought and steaks after that. Doggett began to relax after his third Dirty Martini. He realized that Walter Skinner, his boss and now friend, was a very interesting man. They shared the same views on several subjects, such as politics, religion and sports, although they did not agree on the status of the designated hitter. While Skinner was from the old school, Doggett made some very clear points about the benefits of a fresh pitcher. Skinner smiled and continued sipping his drink.

When dinner and coffee had been finished, Skinner look at Doggett carefully and asked, "How about we retire to the bar? Or would you like to go down to the club?"

"What's in the club?" Doggett immediately became wary about the implications of joining his boss in a gay club.

"Oh, there's dancing, sometimes a band. I just like to go down there and people-watch. It's pretty interesting sometimes."

Doggett looked into Skinner's serene face, the tan still evident in his skin. He knew that this man was opening himself, letting Doggett see the man, not the job that the man did. Maybe he was extending the hand of friendship. He could have done it in a different arena, thought Doggett, but the offer was flattering nonetheless.

Doggett found himself following his boss through the restaurant, through a puckered steel door to a long narrow hallway, painted red. It felt like they were going down a birth canal, being reborn. They emerged into a hopping, throbbing, pulsing, sultry, smoky club filled with men and more men. They were talking, drinking, dancing and smoking. Some were kissing. Others were fucking. And Doggett took it all in, mouth agape and hands nervously gripping his martini glass. He looked a moment, only to have lost Skinner in the sea of bodies. He walked forward, ignoring the leers and comments flung at him to see the massive, light blue cotton covered back moving toward the bar.

They stood side by side, leaning back against the bar, watching the throng of men moving on the sunken dance floor. Clothes were becoming scarce with the dancers, most being topless. The array of bodies was like a smorgasbord of sex and nudity. Doggett could feel the effects of the alcohol and the good food clouding his thoughts, making him feel more drunk than he should be. His body felt loose and comfortable. The beat of the music, the throbbing, droning bass of the lyricless dance music, was creeping into Doggett's head, into his arms and legs and stomach. Unconsciously, he began to move to the beat, just rocking back and forth in place. Skinner looked over at him and smiled.

"It's infectious, isn't it, John?"

Doggett turned to Skinner, who was smiling widely. "Well, sir...I..."

"Wait a second. We're here, in a social situation. Please call me Walter."

"OK, um, Walter. This isn't my kind of music. But you're right, it does get under your skin."

Skinner smiled and sipped at his drink, watching Doggett moving beside him. The agent rocked with the beat, watching the bodies in the pit, and felt the heat rising in his body. Something in the air, something in the music, something in his drink was making him uncomfortably hot. He loosened his tie, slipped his jacket from his shoulders and leaned back against the bar again.

Skinner watched Doggett loosen up, watched the pale blue eyes drift around the club. They rested on a couple, two very handsome men who were engaged in a dance very different from the dancing on the floor. Both were shirtless, but the younger, dark-haired man standing facing them against the railing has his pants down around his knees. The man behind him, blonder than Doggett, had his arm around his companion's neck, holding the man in place as he thrust into the ass presented to him. Doggett's hand stopped on its trip to his mouth for another sip of his drink when he realized the men were fucking.

"Do you see that?" he asked Skinner, pointing without looking away.

"Yes, I do," Skinner replied. "The dark one better put a condom on before he comes on the crowd. They won't like that. They'll get thrown out."

"Put what...the dirty bastards are fucking right there! This is indecent exposure! Skinner, do something about..."

As Doggett turned to face his boss, a movement caught his eye and he looked down to see Skinner rubbing the considerable bulge in his pants. Doggett's gaze flicked below the belt back to Skinner's flushed face. Skinner turned to Doggett and smiled. Then he got it. The reason why Skinner was so relaxed, so calm, so different. It was the reason why he was dressing better. He came out on vacation.

Doggett put his glass on the bar and began pulling his jacket on. Skinner put down his own drink and grabbed Doggett's arm to spin the man around. "John, wait, don't leave."

"Look, this isn't my...scene...OK? I'm not into all this..."

Doggett pulled his arm away and strode from the club. He made it all the way to the parking lot before he realized he was driven here. He'd either have to wait for Skinner or he'd have to figure something else. He looked up and saw a taxi waiting by the edge of the parking lot and began walking towards it. His vision was blurry, and the ground was tilting under him, but he was making his way quickly toward the yellow car.

A big heavy arm came about his waist, stopping him in his tracks. Doggett was spun around to face the bear of man who was pursuing him. Skinner's face blurred before him, the ground felt funny, like it was one of those 'Moon Walk' blow up rides at an amusement park for kids. He felt himself pulled along, then the smell of a car and he was asleep.

Doggett looked at the hand attached to arm and knew it was Skinner's. Fuck this, he thought and rolled onto his back, letting the arm slide onto his chest. The body next to him moved and soon two fuzzy brown eyes were looking at him. Doggett stared back, waiting. Skinner rolled onto his back, pulling his arm with him and yawned, scrubbing his face and scalp.

"Good morning, John," Skinner said, nonchalantly. He sat up, revealing his bare torso. Doggett realized he was only wearing his boxers, having been undressed by Skinner.

"What the hell happened last night?" Doggett demanded, pulling the sheet and comforter up on himself.

"You got drunk and passed out. I took you home and put you to bed." Skinner looked at him matter-of-factly.

"That's it?" Doggett was cautious. He was assessing his body parts mentally, looking for unusual stress in places where he had no reason for it. But except for the monster headache and slight queasiness, he was in fine form. Doggett took a deep breath. He went over all the thoughts racing around his head.

"That's it. Why, did you want something else to happen?" Skinner looked away and sighed deeply. He was a little hurt, from the look of it. Doggett had no idea where to go with this and how to handle it. Granted, he wasn't homophobic. Actually, in his youth, in high school, he had a male lover. Well, not a lover, but his good friend in Georgia, where he spent his summers with his relatives. They spent four summers learning the ways of sex with each other. But after he'd gone to college, he strictly dated women. And after being married, and divorced, being in the NYPD and the FBI, he just didn't think much about it. Sex didn't come up anymore.

And again he was hit with a revelation. This was probably the way Skinner was feeling before he had gone on vacation. The frequent headaches, the upside-down stomach, the jumpiness and the anxiety were all symptoms of stress tension. Doggett made his mind up, albeit quickly and maybe recklessly, but this was a kind of reckless that would only get him one thing: relaxed. He rolled onto his side to face his boss and asked, "What did you do on vacation?"

The questions played across Skinner's face as a bit of guard went up. Doggett smiled gently. Skinner smiled back. "I enjoyed myself. I let go of my title, my class place and my inhibitions. And I think I'm a better man for it. Did you want the gory details?"

"Some. Seriously, why are you so different? What made you like this?"

Remembering the week away, the smile widened on Skinner's face and his eyes lost focus. He was lost in reverie of his trip. "Well, I had been to my yearly physical. And while my weight was good, my muscle mass to fat content excellent, my persistent headaches, frequent bouts of nausea and acid reflux were just about crippling me. The doctor suggested a vacation, and I asked him who would watch my agents as they worked. He told me that you were adults, you were capable of watching yourselves. Then he asked me an important question, and it made me think. Who is watching me?"

Doggett's face crumpled into a frown. Well, he watched out for Skinner, when he could. There were those clandestine meetings he'd had with Kersh when he was first assigned to find Mulder. He tried his hardest to make Skinner's and Scully's actions in Arizona look positive. He made sure he visited the man as much as he could while recuperating from his eye injury. He made sure that Scully was safe, which seemed paramount to Skinner. At first, Doggett though his boss and new partner were sleeping together. Then he'd learned that Scully looked up to the AD like a surrogate father more than a lover. No, her lover was the man Doggett was sure fathered the baby, William. Which made Skinner a grandfather.

"Oh, John, I didn't mean you. I meant you didn't concern yourself with my personal life, as you shouldn't. But no one else was, either. I had no personal life. And that's not good. I'm getting old. I'll be fifty soon. I haven't had sex since my wife died. Too long. Forget it. I needed to get on with my life. And in Aruba, I was at a singles resort. But...I didn't end up with a woman."

Doggett continued looking at Skinner with interest. He wanted the other man to continue. He wanted to hear the whole story. It seemed like there was a part of Skinner's life that was like Doggett's, an old lover before he had to make a decision about his way of life. But once you realize what you are, there's nothing you can do to hide it. Distractions don't ever work.

"John, I slept with two very nice, very handsome young men, individually I might add, and I enjoyed them a great deal. And I'm not sorry I did. It took me back to when I was in boot camp, to my first male lover. I doubt you had the same experience. 'Nam changed everybody. You got comfort where you could. And I sought comfort with a fellow Marine."

Skinner sat back, a wistful look in his eyes. He was lost in his reverie, and Doggett could see the play of emotions on his face. Happiness, longing and a touch of regret. But one emotion was lacking: shame. Skinner stared out into space, hands twisting the sheets in his lap.

"Cal was more comfort to me than I can ever tell you."

"Cal was your buddy?" Doggett rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand to listen.

"Yep," Skinner smiled even wider, thinking about it. "Calvin Hunter, tall kid, even taller than me. Rail thin with golden blonde hair and eyes bluer than even Scully. He and I took care of each other out there, at Parris Island, in 'Nam. We were like Forrest Gump and Bubba Blue, slept against each other's backs in the rain. When we had time, we played cards, talked, made love, but really, Cal was just a friendly face and a warm hand to hold when I was scared."

Doggett was afraid to ask the question. Skinner kept referring to Cal in the past tense. In 'Nam, that usually only meant one thing.

"So, Cal is..."

"Dead. A sniper attack took out my entire platoon. I should have died, too. You know, while I was on vacation, I thought I saw Cal on the beach. In country, we had all gone skinny-dipping once and it was a really great day, swimming and lying on the bank of the stream in the sun. When I was on the beach, I thought I saw him like he was that day, laughing and smiling, coaxing me to get my uniform off and get in the water. I took it as a sign. I'll always love Cal. But life has to go on. I was hoping to show you that last night, John."

Doggett looked away and thought about all the reasons that held him back from letting his life continue. Luke was tops on his list. How was he supposed to put aside his son? And then there was Barbara, and the damned X-Files nonsense. What the hell was he supposed to do? He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked over into Skinner's face. Without his glasses, the man looked at least a decade younger.

"John, I know I can't ever understand what it's like to lose a child, but after losing Cal, and Sharon, and thinking I lost Mulder, who was as close to a son as I'll ever get, I think I can empathize. You know Luke wouldn't want to see you so sad. You don't have to forget him, but you don't have to kill yourself every minute for having lost him."

Doggett looked away, fighting the tears. Skinner pulled back the covers and stood from the bed. The white briefs hugged his ass like second skin. Doggett watched the big man walk to the en-suite bathroom and close the door. He listened to the toilet flush, reminding him of his own need, then the shower started.

Doggett sat for a moment thinking. Skinner was trying to give him a message. Comfort was available, if it was wanted; a friendly face and a warm hand to hold when he was scared. Skinner was offering to give Doggett the same comfort as Cal had given him thirty years ago. It was that simple. And Skinner was a man of discretion. It was an easy choice for Doggett to make.

Standing and stretching, Doggett strode to the bathroom and opened the door. There was a separate shower stall to the left from the large, raised marble tub, on the far wall. Dual sinks were puzzling, but Doggett figured the condo was probably designed originally for a couple. The toilet was thankfully in an alcove out of view of the shower so Doggett ducked in to relieve himself.

Skinner perked his ears a bit. Had he heard the door open? Nah, Doggett wouldn't just walk into the bathroom like that. He continued his shower, thinking about the conversation he'd just had. It was the most he'd revealed of himself to anyone since he's talked with Mulder. Doggett would either read his invitation and accept, or respectfully decline. One thing that Skinner was sure of, Doggett wouldn't hurt his feelings. That was a man of honor. If he didn't want comfort, he would be polite about it.

"Hey," Doggett called out, disturbing Skinner's thoughts. "If I flush this thing, are you gonna get a shot of hot?"

Skinner shook his head to clear it of the confusion. Doggett was in the bathroom? Must have had to go bad, Skinner decided. "No, go ahead. Different plumbing lines."

The toilet flushed and Skinner went back to running the bar of soap over his chest. He expected to be alone a few more minutes, but was unprepared when the shower door opened and a naked Doggett stepped in. The two men looked at each other warily. A slender, shaky hand was placed on the burly chest before it. A blunt hand came to cup the sharp-boned cheek of the other man. Both men leaned into the kiss as if it was the most natural consequence of their actions. Their lips met gently at first. Each man sensed the fear in the other.

Doggett pulled back and looked into Skinner's eyes. Both men smiled nervously. "John, I..."

"Walter, just wash my back," Doggett said quickly and turned to face away from Skinner. A blush was creeping up his face, but the erection was unmistakable. Two big hands began massaging Doggett's shoulders, making their slippery way down his back. When Skinner's hands reached his ass, Doggett leaned back against the hairy chest behind him. Skinner slid his hands around Doggett's waist, massaging the younger man's abs and chest. He stepped back into the shower spray, bringing Doggett with him, washing away the soap and stink from the club the night before.

Doggett turned in Skinner's embrace and reached up to kiss the man more. Their erections bumped, making Skinner laugh. Doggett smiled back. They made short work of the shower, drying each other with Skinner's fluffy white cotton towels, sharing more kisses. Skinner felt like a teenager, discovering sex and love all over again. Doggett was actually giggling. Making their way to the bedroom, Skinner pulled Doggett down onto his chest on the bed. The towels were forgotten on the floor as the men settled on the bed to kiss and touch and discover each other's bodies. Skinner had sensitive nipples and Doggett was ticklish.

But they began getting serious, Skinner reaching for Doggett's erection to stroke him. Taking his cue, Doggett reached down to touch Skinner. He was bigger and thicker, and Doggett knew this would hurt him. He hadn't been bottom since that time in his youth. This would be interesting.

Skinner, knowing he was more open at the moment to exploring, pushed Doggett onto his back to trail his mouth down the man's chest and stomach. He tasted each nipple, licked and nipped them until they stood for him, causing Doggett to squirm in delight. Skinner dipped his tongue in the shallow navel and continued down the taut muscles. He stopped at the nest of dark amber curls that nested Doggett's cock perfectly. Skinner took the cock by the base and tasted the head, swirling his tongue about and dipping into the slit. Doggett's hips jerked. Skinner took his cue and slowly slipped the entire length into his mouth and down his throat.

Doggett's hands instinctively went to Skinner's head, to sooth his lover as he'd always done, but pulled them away quickly, encountering the bare scalp. Skinner looked up briefly then went back to working Doggett with his tongue and lips. Doggett felt his arousal coming to the top of his resolve and gently pushed at Skinner's shoulders. "Stop, stop...I'm gonna come soon..."

Doggett was breathless and dizzy, spinning around on the high of knowing he was making love to someone he trusted, respected and cared about. He was comfortable, finally, with a partner. Skinner sat up and stretched his shoulders. That was when Doggett took his chance to reach out to the big man and pull him down and begin kissing again. Skinner kissed like a god. But he surprised the younger man by pulling him back to lay across the wide expanse of fur-covered chest. The pale blue eyes widened and stared uncertainly into brown. Doggett cocked his head to the side.

"John, I'm sure it's been longer for you than for me."

"But, I thought..."

"John," Skinner said, firmly, "fuck me. Now."

As if to punctuate his words further, Skinner spread his powerful thighs beneath Doggett's body and jerked his hips upward. A thick arm reached to the night table to pull the draw open. A bottle of liquid lube was extracted and dropped on the bed beside the two entwined bodies. Doggett watched in fascination as Skinner next extracted a condom and held it out to him, undulating his hips gently, forcing the point. Not wasting any time, Doggett took the bottle and poured a generous amount into his hand and reached under Skinner's sac to his hole, massaging it slowly. Skinner's eyes drifted closed and he relaxed visibly. A finger breached the opening and slid home. A gasp reached his ears and he inserted another, scissoring them to relax the big man further. And insistent choked sob reached Doggett and he pulled away to open the condom and roll it on.

Dropping to his elbows, Doggett nestled his body in the valley of Skinner's thighs. Two big hands covered his ass cheeks, pulling Doggett down and the head of his cock pressed Skinner's ass. The two men locked eyes, each wanting to see the other's reaction to the breach of body. Skinner couldn't help it, throwing his head back and groaning loudly. A tiny smile took over Doggett's face briefly. He settled in, pushed to the hilt in Skinner's ass, and stopped to enjoy it. It had been a long time since he'd done this. But Doggett knew it was like riding a bike. Skinner's arms came around the other man for the briefest hug before sliding down to cup the full, firm ass. Doggett took his cue and moved inside Skinner, slowly at first, then picking up a little speed.

With a rhythm established, the younger man pushed into the hot, tight tunnel wrapped around his hardness. He held himself up with one hand while the other traveled over Skinner's face, neck and chest, as if memorizing the man. Skinner thrust his hips up to meet each thrust into his body, to ensure the entire length caressed his insides. Both of his hands were on Doggett's hips, holding the man steady as he pleasured them both, spiraling upward to ecstasy. Doggett could feel the small knot of nerves just where he needed to press harder and with a mighty thrust, Skinner bucked upward swiftly, shouting, "Jesus Christ, John! Again!"

And Doggett did, several times in succession, bringing the big man closer to coming. He slowed, smiling sweetly again, wanting to tease his lover, wanting to make this count. Their first time was going to be good, and memorable if it killed him. An insistent hand on his ass brought Doggett back to his previous rhythm. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and this was tiring him. The roaming hand slipped down to the huge cock that had remained untouched and Doggett stroked Skinner in time to his thrusts. Strategically hitting the older man's prostate brought him to a surprisingly quick and powerful climax. The yelling for deities made Doggett laugh, but the powerful gluteal muscles squeezing his erection painfully almost brought him tears. It did bring him off and he jerked uncontrollably, emptying into the condom, still feeling the strong ass milking him. Doggett collapsed on Skinner's chest.

The men stayed still a moment, catching their breaths, enjoying the feeling of coming, coming down, being connected. Skinner's arms came about Doggett's body gently, holding him down, trying to convey another message. Doggett nuzzled his face into Skinner's neck, scratching with his stubble against the soft skin. Skinner laughed. They turned their faces toward one another and kissed. Doggett moved off the bed to dispose of the condom and wipe himself. He took a washcloth in to Skinner and handed it to the man. Skinner wiped up and tossed the cloth in the general direction of the bathroom with an offhanded, "Fuck it."

"I just did."

Skinner swiftly turned to Doggett and his brown eyes bore into the other man. Doggett glared back. Soon, both men were reduced to childish giggles and fell back to the bed, and into each other's arms. They lay for a few moments, feeling warm skin pressed together, feeling each other's hearts beating, feeling themselves grow a little closer. But there was no way either man could stand it very long.

"I need some coffee," Doggett announced.

"Breakfast sounds good. Waffles? Eggs?" Skinner looked into the pale blue eyes that observed him. Doggett snuggled into Skinner arms one last time and said, "You cooking?"

"I can be persuaded to. Since it's my house."

"OK. Whatever you want."

The men stood from the bed. Skinner opened his bureau drawer and tossed Doggett a pair of jogging shorts while he pulled on pajama pants. They went to the kitchen to begin breakfast. Skinner prepared while Doggett sat at the table reading the paper that was left on the welcome mat. Doggett watched the big man work around the kitchen. He had a grace about him, as he hand-mixed the batter, brushed butter on the waffle iron, fried bacon and scrambled eggs. He'd never watched his wife the way he was watching this man at the moment. He was learning his lover.

Skinner served them both and sat down with Doggett to eat. Doggett read the local and national sections of the paper, Skinner read the foreign and finance sections, getting up a few times for more food. They almost fought over the sport section, but Doggett reasoned that when he left, Skinner would have the whole paper to himself. So Skinner took Doggett's discarded sections and read them. By the end of the meal, Doggett understood what happened to Skinner on vacation. He looked across the table at the other man and said, "I...uhm...I have to get some errands done today. I should get going."

Skinner nodded and stood with Doggett. They went upstairs and Skinner made his bed while Doggett grabbed a fast shower, again, and dressed. He stepped out to see his lover sitting on the bed looking out his bedroom window. Skinner looked up and smiled. They walked down the stairs together and stopped by the front door. Doggett looked into Skinner's eyes.

"When would you like to do this again?" Doggett wasn't going to beat around the bush.

"In terms of what? Dinner? Drinking until you pass out? Breakfast?" Skinner smiled at his own joke, but he was just stalling to make sure that Doggett was actually saying what he was saying.

"Fucking. When can we fuck again?" The look on Doggett's face was pure intent.

"Whenever you want. You just come over, or call, or whatever. I'll be here for you."

Doggett turned to the door and opened it. He turned back to Skinner and asked, "How long have you wanted me?"

Skinner smiled gently. "A while, John. I needed to get to the place where I could be comfortable with it. I'm happy I did."

"Me too, Walter." Doggett leaned up and kissed Skinner soundly on the mouth, turned and walked away. Standing in the elevator going down, Doggett thought about what this evening and morning interruption had done to his day. He was usually very structured with his time and errands. He would have to do things a little faster. He would get the laundry out, and the dry cleaning, and the groceries. And he needed to fix the pipe in the bathroom. And the folders that needed to get finished at the Hoover. But those could wait. Doggett was planning on a night in the arms of his lover. He needed the distraction.

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Happy Birthday Sarah! Love you!

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